


Someone has to stand still for you to love them (my choices are always on the run)

by gabrielgoodman



Category: Broadway RPF, Les Misérables RPF, Phantom of the Opera RPF, Sheytoons (Band)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9302264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielgoodman/pseuds/gabrielgoodman
Summary: Hadley's 22 and Ramin stumbles into his life like a whirlwind, all wide smiles and twinkling eyes; he has never met a person quite as bright as him before and he's got a laugh that fills the void between Hadley's ribs, a touch that stops the constant shaking of his hands for a moment or two, and a voice that makes his heart beat twice as fast. // through the years; a love story in five acts.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ftwnhgn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftwnhgn/gifts).



> ftwnhgn wanted me to write her something so I did and spend a week full of train rides and sleepless nights to create this little thing. The headcanon that Hadley has an anxiety disorder is obviously fictional and not mine; his symptoms are mostly based on my on experience with my disorder. 
> 
> Loosely based on real life events. If the time line's messed up a little, it's probably done with intention. Not beta'd.
> 
> Disclaimer: Inspired by real life people who I neither own nor intend to disrespect in any way. This is a work of fiction and not written with the intend to make money out of it and if you are one of the characters mentioned in the tags above then I kindly advice you to not read on further. If you, as the reader, show this in any way to the people mentioned above bad things will happen. JK. But don't send this to Ramin or Hadley or anyone who is close to them.
> 
> Title: Carrie Fisher, The Princess Diarist  
> Lyrics: William Finn, Falsettos

 

 

**a love story in five acts.**

 

“ _Lover's come and lover's go, lover's fight and sing fortissimo.“_

– Welcome to Falsettoland, Falsettos

 

 

**I**

 

Hadley's 22 and fresh out of college and starring in one of the greatest musicals in the world and love is a mystery. He imagines it to be wonderful though; the flutter in your chest and the warmth in your stomach, right down to the sweaty hands and clammy fingers he imagines it to be beautiful and fulfilling and grande, bigger than anything he's ever felt, completing him in more ways than just one. He imagines it like a wave or a soft breeze, taking him in and under and sweeping him off his feet, gently, mindful not to let him down because love keeps you up and afloat, going round and round. So he has heard, at least. He hopes what he has heard is the truth, if not, there's no use, right? Humans are striving to be complete and content and Hadley does so too and love is what will save him. Love is what will save us all, in the end.

Hadley's 22 and a mess at the best times. His hands are as jittery as his nerves and he's trying to play it off but by night he has nowhere to hide; _general anxiety disorder_ , the words taste bitter on his tongue but the diagnosis is real enough and explains the different kind of stomach ache that ties his insides into knots and quickens his breathing whenever something vaguely uncomfortable is about to happen.

Hadley's 22 and he's afraid of _everything._

He begins to wonder if love can really save him, too.

 

*****

 

Hadley's 22 and Ramin stumbles into his life like a whirlwind, all wide smiles and twinkling eyes; he has never met a person quite as bright as him before and he's got a laugh that fills the void between Hadley's ribs, a touch that stops the constant shaking of his hands for a moment or two, and a voice that makes his heart beat twice as fast. There's no use in denying it, Ramin is a force of nature and he's got Hadley wrapped around his little finger in an instant; they get along from the moment they first talk to each other in rehearsal. Ramin is supposed to understudy Hadley as Marius so they rehearse together, every scene first with Hadley and then with Ramin and it's like he's an extension of Hadley's every move, every word, every breath but much more fluent and comfortable in his own skin than Hadley could ever be, years of studying have gotten rid of that natural, carefree ease and his anxiety did the rest.

Ramin has never studied, has never seen a lecture hall from the inside or wrote an essay. He dropped out of school at the age of 18 and went on a cruise ship to England and one day, he wants to play the phantom of the opera just like his idol Colm Wilkinson. He told Hadley all of this on the first day they met, eyes ablaze with a passion foreign in cold and uptight London.

Hadley envies him.

Hadley _likes_ him.

After a month or two they upgrade Ramin from an ensemble member to the part of Feuilly and suddenly they are on stage together 8 times a week, done are the days of breezing past each other in the hallway and a quick chat whenever they stumble into each other and Hadley isn't too busy with a costume change or an adjustment of his wig. Now they wait together in the wings and hang around in each other's dressing rooms and there's not a day they don't spend together and Hadley's baffled though he won't confess. He's not used to this kind of intimacy but with Ramin it comes and goes and it's so easy, like a wave of warm water splashing over his naked feet on a sunny summer day. Hadley never really liked Summer or the sun before.

After four months, Ramin kisses Hadley for the first time, gentle and carefully, on the beat up couch in his shabby, one room apartment. He tastes like the beer they're sharing and distinctly minty.

Hadley has never kissed anyone before.

Ramin looks him into the eyes and says, "I wanted to do this for months," and Hadley doesn't know if he should be flattered or not; he should be, he supposes. Ramin is all he ever wanted.

Somehow, he thinks at night, when his hands are still trembling, love is so different from what he heard but all the same. There's a flutter in his chest when Ramin smiles at him and a warmth in his stomach replacing the cold stone he's so used to, and sometimes he _has_ sweaty palms when Ramin reaches for him. On the other hand they failed to mention that Ramin feels like coming home and lights up every room he enters, especially if Hadley's already in it, that his hands want to touch Hadley's skin, even the parts of him he doesn't like, and hold him close, that his murmured words and hushed whispers are a safety blanket whenever Hadley doesn't want to exist in his hurricane mind.

No one ever told him love could be so intense.

Hadley likes to think that this is what salvation must feel like.

 

 

**II.**

 

Hadley's 27 and an acquainted actor, as far as he's the judge of his life. He has had a steady stream of jobs, some more glamorous than the other and others more wanted than some, and he's heard praise from all directions; it's good. He's good. He's been on Broadway, he's in America, he's far away from Great Britain and what he has had there, he's starring in The Last Five Years every night and it's a joy, and he should be so happy, so awfully happy, he should practically _burst_ with happiness.

Shout it from the rooftops.

Ramin left in the fall and by the beginning of winter his touch was nothing but a mere memory in Hadley's head, a movie scene stuck on repeat; he couldn't forget if he tried, but that was years ago. Ramin's, in fact, happily engaged to a lovely woman named Mandy who's funny and brilliant and just as bright as him, and that shouldn't hurt, right? Moving on, that's part of life too. But the truth is not what they told him about and not what he imagined, how love would sting and shatter and crumble in his trembling hands until there was nothing but smoke to reach for.

His light couldn't match Ramin's, it never has. It was good enough while it lasted.

He drags himself home every night and collapses onto his mattress, stuck in the same dull routine and sleepless nights. Colorado is nice enough and the world is still turning and Hadley's hands are still shaking and nothing has changed yet it _has_ and in a completely perfect world he would've been saved by now, by anything, anyone, but this is not a completely perfect world and Hadley's too tired to pretend. He wants the kind of love that consumes you, he had this kind of love but somehow time trickles by, it always does, and one of them got left behind.

Hadley's not too sure if he's dreaming or just treading through mud. For all he knows, it could be both by now. He might've gone insane for real, just as restless as his hands.

 

*****

 

Hadley's 27 and his doorbell rings and he doesn't know why because no one has his address except for his mother. Hadley's not very social. He's _too afraid_ to be social but he's got a box of pills and is a good actor and if someone notices they don't say a thing. His doorbell doesn't ring on principal. If he would have had his way and planned to stay, his flat wouldn't even have a doorbell. Hadley has too many restless nights for his doorbell to ring.

So, his doorbell rings, loud and clear and for a moment he wonders if he should just let it ring until whoever's bothering him will leave.

The ringing doesn't stop.

He sighs and gets up, self-conscious but too careless, as always, and drags the sleeves of his too large cardigan (he swears it used to fit him) over his fingers, staring at the door like it's his enemy. It rings again and he flinches. The rapid beating of his heart is not unfamiliar but still unwelcome; he forgot to take his medicine this morning.

"I'm here, I'm here," he croaks and opens the evil door just to stop dead in his track, his heartbeat stuttering to pick up as fast as a runaway train, off the tracks and down, down, down, all the way down. He's staring into the abyss.

He winces.

"What are you doing here?"

Ramin doesn't look impressed.

"I called but you didn't pick up so I thought I might as well come over."

That doesn't explain why he's in Aspen. Hadley stares at him.

"Where did you get my address from?" Hadley asks, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, the late August air blowing in breezes through the hallway and right into his doorway and he's _cold_.

"Your mother," Ramin replies and shrugs. Of course.

"D'you mind if I come in or do you want to talk to me outside?" Ramin's still the same and his voice still sounds the same and his accent is still the same and his eyes are still the same and his skin is still the same and Hadley feels like an intruder in his own home, a stranger visiting.

Love is not supposed to make you feel this way.

"No, no, how clumsy of me – Come in," he says nevertheless because he's always been a helpless fool in Ramin's presence. No one ever said he should've learned something in the last four years. Either way, he's good at forgetting.

Ramin looks around his apartment with barely hidden curiosity and almost concealed interest that Hadley recognises too easy for his own liking. He should've moved on three years ago, two at most.

Hadley proposes a cup of tea and Ramin agrees despite his preference for coffee and a moment later they're sitting at Hadley's small kitchen table, each sipping a cup of ginger tea that Hadley only brewed because his voice needs it and not because he actually enjoys the taste; it's uncomfortable, the silence. Uneasy. After the split they've remained friends, best friends even, and there have never been times when they didn't know what to say to one another; usually conversation flows easily like a river and blooms like a flower between them, the kind of talk you never want to end and drag out until you have to leave or you will have gone too far. Hadley's been gracing that edge frequently before and Ramin didn't like it, he could tell by the awkward shift of his shoulders whenever Hadley would skip to another subject. It's easier to cover up what you don't want to see, he thinks, and wonders why love hurts so much, why everyone has been lying to him. He's been wondering for a very long time now. When he picks up his coffee cup again his hands are trembling so badly, he spills the tea and Ramin notices because he's been watching him, and Hadley curses and flushes, suddenly 22 again.

"Shit, sorry," he says and scrambles to his feet, only for Ramin to grab his hands and stop him mid-motion, taking care of the mess while Hadley watches. Afterwards he's sitting down again and observes Hadley with a strange look in his eyes, then he leans back in his chair and studies him some more. Hadley's still flushed.

"It hasn't stopped," Ramin states, matter of fact and Hadley doesn't have to stretch to know what exactly he means.

"No," he says, "it hasn't," if only to say something.

"Have you seen a doctor?" Ramin inquires and Hadley rolls his eyes.

"You mean a shrink? No."

Now Ramin rolls his eyes, "Please _Robert_." They've always been too alike and maybe that's the problem.

Hadley glares at him, "You don't get to call me that, no one does."

He hates the name.

"I used to, sometimes, when you felt comfortable enough but I prefer Hadley more, you're right. I just don't know how you'd listen," Ramin says and Hadley won't deny it.

He doesn't want to listen to words anymore; they're all lies anyway, and he's already been deaf when that door fell into its inevitable lock. When Ramin decided to leave.

"You left," he remarks, hissing, "you left, okay, you just left me."

Ramin looks dumbstruck as if he didn't see this coming and maybe he hasn't, maybe his pretty little head has been caught up in whatever Mandy and him have going on at the moment, maybe another child, maybe he's been too busy preparing for Phantom, it wouldn't surprise Hadley. That 12-year old still exists in Ramin and will until the day he will finally slide on that mask for real, and Hadley remembers 5 years ago and the pretty boy he fell in love with who's still as beautiful, who held his shaking hands and kissed his chapped lips and touched him like he meant it. Who left him in the fall and was gone when winter came.

"I know," Ramin says and looks him in the eyes, "I know what I did."

Hadley breathes in shakily and curls his fingers into fists so they might stop trembling so uncontrollably and pretends he can't hear the rush of blood in his ears and the pounding of his traitor heart.

Maybe he won't be saved after all.

"You were my first time," he says quietly, looking up, "You were the first person who ever kissed me, you were the first person who ever slept with me and then you _left._ "

It shouldn't hurt as much as it does but it's been a while since he's thought about it quite as bluntly.

"I know," Ramin repeats, defeated.

"I don't think you do," Hadley snarls and Ramin flinches like he's been punched in the gut. Good.

"Listen Hads, I love you –"

Hadley can't do this anymore, he's been sick of all the lies and half-truths and the fairytales and the prince who clearly won't come along to sweep him off his feet and the magic that has lost all its appeal and he's so sick, he can't do this anymore and if he dies, he will suffocate.

"I _love_ you, but you, you don't love me. Go home, Ramin, go home to your family," he says and breathes.

On this day they don't talk more.

That evening he finds an email with an audio file attached in his inbox. It's called _newyorkstateofmind.mp3._

 

 

**III.**

 

Hadley's 31 and he's living in London and he's starring in one of the greatest musicals in the world and he's alright. He doesn't think love will save him anymore, instead he's seeing a therapist weekly and has a new prescription of meds and sings his heart out in rehearsal if only to fill what's left of him anyway; there's a strange sort of emptiness that comes and goes in waves, worse whenever he's alone or with Ramin.

They're doing Phantom together. It's the bitterness of a full circle, Hadley supposes.

And Ramin's brighter than he's ever been before, glowing in an orbit of his own with praise and success as company and a love for the finer things in life and a family and a smile still unmatched and a touch that burns on Hadley's skin. They don't talk about or mention it when the air thickens and the days get shorter; lived under the shelter of summer nights Hadley's coming home again and Ramin's allowed to pretend whatever they're doing isn't as bad as it seems.

Love won't save him but the game works well enough.

After _Les Miz_ Ramin kisses him for the first time in years. He tastes like sweat and Guinness and the cough drop Hadley lend him before the second act. It's intoxicating. Hadley never wants to stop and so they don't.

One night Ramin tells him, "I would marry you if I could," solemnly.

Hadley kisses him again. Raoul wouldn't kiss the Phantom, he thinks. Maybe that's why he's doing it.

 

*****

 

"You love him, don't you?" Sierra asks one day before their first performance. They're in the middle of tech rehearsal and she's wearing half of her costume just as everyone else does, sitting next to him on one of the stairs while they're waiting to do their duet.

Hadley doesn't have to ask, "I do," he says, there's no need for lies. His therapist told him he's an honest man so it must be true.

Love saved Sierra but instead of loving some else, she loves herself the most. Hadley envies her. He could never love himself, maybe that's why he's longing for someone who will never quite belong him, who'll never be a part of him.

There's no flutter in his chest anymore when he's looking at Ramin, but desire and fear and devotion and sometimes anxiety and it doesn't seem to end.

His hands tremble and Sierra intertwines their fingers. She's beautiful and pure and bubbly and wonderful and talented and almost as bright. Almost. Hadley loves her so much, he never wants to let go.

But it's not enough and he doesn't want it to be; he loves her like a brother loves his sister.

"He loves you too, you know. I see that you're doubting him but he really loves you, and I know you don't think he wants you as much as you want him, but he does," She answers quietly, and Hadley bows his head.

"It's complicated," he murmurs. _It is what it is,_ he thinks.

"I understand, all I'm saying is have faith, Love always finds a way."

Whatever he would've answered is lost as Cameron tells them to get in their places and start over and from his standpoint he believes to see a familiar shadow in the wings but what does he know; all he's sure of is the shaking of his hands now that Sierra has let go.

When she asks him if he loves her, Raoul says, "You know I do," and Hadley means it.

 

*****

 

Hadley's 31 and kisses Ramin as if he believes that Love will save them.

 

 

 

**IV.**

 

Hadley's 32 when he discovers romance; he's falling in love and he knows there's only one way this will end but still, he keeps holding on. With nerves as jittery as his hands, with fingers dangerously weak, he's holding on.

_"I love you and and I think you're good but I didn't expect that," he says and Ramin lights up, only for him, and he's ethereal in that single moment they share._

_He gets the part._

_He kisses Hadley on the tube ride back home._

_He uses Love inflationary._

He uses Love inflationary.

There's a child now and his name is Hadley and Ramin's radiating with a parental glow that is hard to miss when you're in the same room as him, let alone in the same bed as him. Hadley has stomach cramps simply thinking about it and yet, and yet he holds the baby in his arms and kisses his forehead and congratulates the happy parents and tells Ramin's sons that there's love enough for the both of them combined and some more. He's lying but only to himself. That's new, too.

Ramin tells him that it's Hadley's child just as much as it's his own, that there's a reason why they share the same name, that if he could, he would give Hadley a part of his heart and in a way he hopes he has. Hadley, on the other hand, doesn't have the heart to tell Ramin about his terrible nights and nausea and his missed doctor's appointments. Who cares anyway.

Still, he's in love and they sleep on the couch in Hadley's dressing rooms with tangled legs and mingled breaths and sweaty palms, and their co-stars are making fun of them for being all over each other. They don't have a clue and it's for the best. No one has. No one should have. Hell, Hadley himself has the feeling that he's stepping in the dark but as long as Ramin's soft glow is next to him it's bearable.

He tries very hard not to think about the moment of pass that's inevitable and looming on the horizon.

Still, he's 32 and in love and maybe it's a bit too late to start now but finally there's something to fall in love _with_. Ramin kisses _I love you'_ s into his skin like a new brand of ink, sings his own words back at him in a sickly sweet fashion of Deja-Vú, spends his nights in Hadley's bed like he belongs there and nowhere else; clasps Hadley's shaking hands in his own and whispers soothing words into the minor space between them, just like he did ten years ago, and they touch and love fortissimo, broken, blurred reality. Ramin apologises more and Hadley less because he has not an ounce of regret left in his bones, simply willing to settle for whatever he gets at any particular moment. He's _in love_ , it shouldn't stop.

But of course it does, it always does.

He shouldn't be surprised anymore.

It's on a cold winter night when Ramin takes him out for a walk a little after midnight; they've just slept with each other, a hot, long affair ending with a mark too high to hide under any costume collar and Hadley was content with falling asleep right then and there, bare and satisfied for a minute and a half when Ramin slid out of bed and asked him to follow him outside. It's ridiculous, Hadley thinks, but as unpredictable as anything else and he doesn't have a good feeling about this. It smells like a cheap ending.

"You know that I love you," Ramin tells him once they are out on the street. Simple, honest, rotten truth.

 _Rotten._ Hadley turns the word over in his mouth until it tastes like death.

"I know," he lies.

"And you know that I would never leave you, right? Not if there is a chance to stay," Ramin continues and Hadley glances at him out the corner of his eyes; his face is barely lit by the street lamps and an unreadable expression lays upon his features. Time has yet to reach him.

"Sure." Hadley shrugs, " Sounds a lot like a 'but' though."

He's not dumb.

Ramin swallows, and chuckles nervously, "You're right, it does and there is. I've got an offer on the table to play Valjean in the new Canadian production of Les Misérables and I've said yes. The engagement will start in 2014 but there's no need for me to stay in London any longer than necessary."

There's a twisted sense of irony in this somewhere but Hadley only has half of a mind to think about it.

"Sure, I mean, I suppose there isn't. Any reason, I mean, I –" he takes a deep breath and forces air into his lungs, his hands hidden away in the pockets of his coat, his glasses hiding the shift of his eyes. No need for hard feelings.

Ramin coaxes his left hand out and holds it gently, "I love you."

Hadley tries a smile, "Sure."

Hadley's 32 and believes the lies for as long as he can. He takes up his doctor's appointments again and doubles the dose of his medication and throws himself into his work, as if it will save him. As if he will ever be saved.

Hadley's 32 and stops holding on; rather, he lets go.

 

 

**V.**

 

Hadley's 36 and smiles rarely these days, but he's at peace; there's a mystery surrounding Love he never quiet got the hang on though and finally, he has stopped trying. Hadley counts the days on the calendars and writes his thoughts into journals and plays parts he loves and enjoys and he grows emotionally, to a place where his hands don't shake and his mind doesn't race whenever he's on his own.

He's on his own often these days.

Hadley turns around and cocks his head, and says quietly, "I love you."

Ramin looks up from his book, Anastasia for his newest Broadway stint, and smiles, "I know."

The scene repeats on the screen.

Hadley's 36.

 

 

 

_"Lovers come and lovers go, lovers live and die fortissimo."_

– Falsettoland (Reprise), Falsettos

 

**end.**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on my tumblr henribrl, I love to talk about these guys.


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